Mamihlapinatapai
by AngelCakes4913
Summary: (noun) a look shared by two people, each wishing that the other would initiate something that they both desire. But which neither wants to begin.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I can explain...okay actually I can't. Ever since Are you afraid of the park, I've been a mess and I need to write down what is going on in my head or else I'll never forgive myself. I'm not gonna sugar-coat it, but I think they're in love with each other. I've always wondered how the show makes them have all these close and sometimes intimate moments and then pretend like they never happened. Well, here's my take with a series of one-shots based on a Tumblr prompt. Enjoy!**

If there was anything Max Thunderman hated more than being second best, it had to be chores. Why was he doing them you ask? Well it seemed nobody in the Thunderman's household found replacing chocolate ants with sprinkles for dessert was funny, whatever, and so he was grounded for two weeks and had to do all the chores in the house.

Which was something he wasn't really good at.

"Ow," He grumbled a curse, before sucking on the tip of his thumb. Nursing a stab wound from reaching for a fork that was right side up.

He heard the pleasing sound of soft laughter, it would have been pleasing had he not known who it was coming from. Of course, he mentally sighed and quickly glanced behind him, Phoebe was there in her pajamas, leaning against the kitchen island.

"Aw, Maxie T got a wittle boo boo." She walked closer, loving the way his shoulders stiffened. "Don't tell me the world's greatest super villain is scared of a few dishes." She pulled her lips in between her teeth, careful to stifle the smile playing on her face.

He never turned to look at her, but he could still see that infamous quirk of her lips in his mind. _Annoying_. "Buzz off Phoebe, I'm working here."

"Oh, I see, but sadly, the dishes are supposed to go _in_ to the 'Magic Chore Machine' not through your skin." And she was by his side now, pushing dangerously into his space. She wasn't even waiting for an invitation, she had a strong feeling he wasn't going to ask for the help he so desperately needed.

She wordlessly pulled a plate out from the soapy sink water and began rinsing it before placing it into the dishwasher. Max's eyebrows furrowed skeptically, as he watched how carelessly she was handling the task. Maybe he was a little agitated that she was good at something he wasn't, but in his mind he rolled his eyes.

Girls were known for being good at this kind of lame stuff anyway.

"I'll rinse, you put them away." Phoebe ordered, and in less than a moment they fall into a pattern.

They didn't talk about how their sides were brushing together or how the contact warmed up the skin from their forearms to the base of their necks.

They were never really good with the whole _'personal space'_ thing.

Max turns to look at her and study the way her dark brown hair falls over one shoulder, spilling across her chest in waves. Long eyelashes brushing against her cheekbones and her lips pulled into a small pout as she focused at the task at hand. Phoebe was definitely beautiful, and he started noticing it maybe around twelve years old, but it didn't start bugging him until he hit fifteen.

There's a small smile on his face, because how could he have not known she would love doing chores. In his mind, he's forced to think it's because she _loves_ spending time with him. It helps him cope with the guilt of loving her.

The word ' _Thanks_ ' hangs heavy on the tip of his tongue, and he's too caught up staring to realize she's staring too.

"...What?" She pulls a lock of her hair behind her ear, embarrassed and suddenly Max is hyper aware of every movement she makes.

"-Nothing." He says and pulls the spoon from her fingertips.

Besides the occasional clanking of plates and bowls. A comfortable silence falls back upon them. They were doing the chores –well his assigned chores together, in a strangely domestic way, but they were the perfect team.

* * *

Seriously, it wasn't his fault that Billy thought it was a good idea to play " _Hide and Go Ouch_ " with Nora inside of Phoebe's closet. So what if they singed nearly half of her entire wardrobe, they apologized already, all of which had nothing to do with him.

So he begged and pleaded, all things that he considers are for the weak hearted, not to go with her, but she insisted it was his fault because he _gave_ them the idea.

Okay. That was a little true.

Phoebe pulled on his wrist and dragged him into yet another department store. _Shopping._ This was the fourth place today, and his only use was to carry her bags and meet the glances of respect and admiration from guys all because he's with a girl like Phoebe. It would and should have bothered him, but they had no way of knowing she was his sister.

He didn't like telling people they were related anyway if that meant none of the cashiers would try to hit on her in front of him then so be it.

"I have to try these on!" She jumped on the balls of her feet with a handful of outfits and accessories and scurried off into one of the dressing rooms.

 _Great_. Now she was trying on clothes. He watched her walk off, shooting daggers into the back of her head. There was nothing else to do except sit in one of the lounge chairs and just wait. His eyes wondered around the notably colorful store with their hefty prices and catchy pop songs playing in the background. All things he couldn't stand.

Oh, how he couldn't wait to get out of here.

"What do you think?" Phoebe called out, before stepping into his field of view, pulling her hair over to one side of her shoulder and spinning slowly.

He's paralyzed for two seconds, mind circling around and around coming up with nothing. She's wearing a blue and white crop top that showed off the skin of her slim stomach, accompanied with a short white skirt that makes him question his sanity. There's a strain in his chest and an unfamiliar burning in the lower pit of his belly.

Since when did Phoebe dress like this?

"Uh, earth to Max?" Her eyes squinted, face tight with anxiety.

Any nerves he was feeling he was definitely sweating them out. "You look...not terrible," He said with that face he always makes when he was lying.

"Not _terrible_...?" She repeated in what his mind thought hurt. She shook her head, quickly shutting the mirrored door behind her. Apparently those weren't the words she was looking for.

He thinks he has a serious problem, it's not something like an embarrassing itch or puberty. No. Those days are long gone, but this isn't something he can tell anyone. For a split second he actually thought his sister looked _hot_. Oh God, he pinched the bridge of his nose. It was obviously his mind playing tricks on him, there was no way in hell he was attracted to Phoebe -

"How about this?" She said, and came out in the next threads of torture. A light blue dress that clung tightly to her body with a _very_ low-cut neckline.

He looked for a long moment and Phoebe looked back, trying to gauge his stone-faced expression. With this particular outfit leaving little to the imagination, it was in that very moment Maximus Octavius Thunderman knew he was all sorts of screwed.

About five outfits and a half an hour later full of Max's complaining they finally stopped off for frozen yogurt -Phoebe had promised- at the food court, after what she put him through he felt he deserved it.

"I can't believe you didn't like a single outfit," Phoebe said head cocked to the side while licking idly at her delicacy.

"I paid for them didn't I?" Max let out gruffly. But then there's mischief in her eyes, making them darken and his mood dissipates into thin air, but his skin is still hot. "I thought you-they looked...good."

 _Oh, if only she knew._

"Aw, thanks, Max." Phoebe murmured with a tender softness that had the air lodged out of his throat.

"Yeah, yeah..."

They stare at each other, warm doe eyes meeting hard brown ones, breathing quietly as they catalogue each other's features. Waiting. It's almost like a challenge, to see who'll break first. Both too chicken to do anything the other was silently hoping for...

He shifted his gaze to his plastic spoon and Phoebe's eyes followed, and she watched him stick it into her strawberry yogurt, scooping some and popping it into his mouth.

* * *

Tonight was going to be absolutely perfect. It was she and Link's 6th month anniversary. He had dinner reservations for the fanciest restaurant in town. The whole night he had been showering her with gifts and surprises, an onslaught of magic and fireworks, but for some reason...something didn't quite feel right.

"You having a good time, Phoebe?" Her boyfriend asked while putting his suit jacket onto her shoulders.

 _The perfect gentleman._

"Huh? -Oh yeah, things are...things are just great."

She'd be lying to herself if she thought that were true. In fact things, we're not great at all because on her perfect night she just had to get into a fight with he-who-shall-not-be-named.

 _"Quit acting like he's some knight in shining armor."_

 _"Why, because he's the perfect gentlemen?"_

 _"All I'm saying is guys like him usually have secrets, dark secrets. Watch yourself."_

She didn't understand why their conversation kept replaying in her head. Of all times, Max shouldn't have even been on her mind. Her focus was supposed to be on Link and how amazing he was for going through all this trouble to surprise her.

But her brain really enjoyed messing with her and suddenly she's wondering what would it be like if she were here with Max?

She scoffed to herself.

He'd probably forget to pull her chair out, or order something they both couldn't afford, or forget to tip the waitress, or stick straws up his nose, or-

What was even the point of thinking this? Link was everything Max wasn't, and it doesn't even dawn upon her that she _shouldn't_ even be comparing the two in the first place.

And suddenly something in her lap is vibrating, shaking her out of her thoughts.

 _Beware of the Evilman_

Speak of the devil. She rolled her eyes, of course, he would text her. He had nothing else better to do on a Saturday night. She looked across the table and Link has his head buried in a menu, a quizzical expression on his face. Which made sense since half the menu was in Italian.

 _How about you focus on your lack of love life_

She smirked triumphantly at the bright LCD screen and she added the broken heart emoji, for good measure. _Take that Max_ , instead of worrying about nothing, he should be wondering why no girl in their school would stand within ten feet of him and his band dorks.

"...breadsticks?"

"Huh?" She quickly dropped her phone in her lap and looked up startled.

"I said, should we order the Mozzarella sticks or the breadsticks?"

She looked uncertain but nodded, trying to ignore the quick buzz of her phone and quickly put in. "Yeah, that sounds fine." She signed off and stared down at her phone screen again.

 _On a date with Courtney right now so ha!_

A short pain shot through the pit of her stomach as she reread the text and she wanted to think it was because she was hungry, and not because of anything else. There was no reason to believe her brother, there was no way he could find a date last minute with the prettiest girl in school, and he said his plans were to watch Wrestle Face until morning.

 _What would a senior want with you?_

"Phoebe, is everything alright?" Her head snaps up. "You haven't stopped checking your phone since we got here."

"Uh, yeah...? I was ju-just checking in on Chloe." She lied, unconvincingly.

The minute he had addressed it was the exact same minute that she realized, that was exactly why she was upset. Link didn't deserve someone who was angry (jealous) that her brother was on a date with some girl who was practically a supermodel in her hometown.

Her phone buzzed once more. Honestly, she didn't understand why she couldn't shut it off. She pulled her lower lip in between her teeth and gave Link an apologetic glance before looking down into her lap once again.

 _Maybe she has a thing for bad boys ;)_

Unconsciously, she types out. _Maybe I do too_.

But she never hits send.

* * *

She collapsed, half-dead on Max's bed. "I feel so dizzy." She groaned.

Max had stopped rubbing it in about twenty minutes ago, now he rubbed her back occasionally and told her all sorts of lies like, 'you'll be alright.'

It was just another party. Moving to Hiddenville meant a lot of them. Nothing she couldn't handle, at this point she considered herself an _'experienced partier_ ' but still, Max had warned her this wasn't some illegal party on the roof, this was an unsupervised party just outside of town which usually meant booze...and lots of it.

"Am I gonna die?" She asked for the thousandth time.

"No, Pheebs, not from a mouthful of alcohol." She wasn't particularly drunk, he had seen drunk girls before, with their giggling and falling over, but she was considerably tipsy, and she had an epic headache. "It's only because it's your first time. It gets easier after a while, and you get used to the taste."

"Doubt it," She mumbled through a face full of mattress.

"Who knew a Supe like you had a weakness for spiked punch? I could use that to my advantage..." He joked, but he was seriously considering it.

She started to chuckle but stopped when a stab of pain pounded through her head. "I can't laugh. Don't make me laugh."

This time he grinned, and patted her back again, lingering a little longer on the exposed skin of her neck, she moaned and he pulled away as if she had burned him.

"Sorry." It must've been the alcohol in his system too.

"No…it's ok," She reassured him, loving but refusing to admit that his touch sent her stomach into a riotous whirlpool.

There was a pregnant pause before his hands were on her skin again, just the fingertips against the sweaty, overheated flesh. He rubbed slow circles into her muscles, an act that did a lot less to calm her nerves. Eventually, her heart had started pounding so wildly in her chest that she made herself roll over onto her back.

"I don't want to hog your bed." Phoebe tried to smile, but her head still throbbed and the act came out like a grimace. She watched him watching her before he finally caught the hint and laid down in the space beside her.

Bed sharing wasn't something the two usually did all the time -if ever- but neither of them seemed to mind. After a minute or two, Max turned onto his back and urged her onto her side, so that her head was propped against his shoulder.

"What if I told you I knew the punch was spiked?" Feeling gutsy, Phoebe cleared her throat. "And that I just wanted to live dangerously for once."

"I'd give you your Dark side t-shirt back, but we all know your drinking days are over."

She chose to ignore his comment. "Lately I've been feeling like," She gulped for air. Whoever said alcohol made you courageous was definitely wrong. "...Taking risks is a part of life."

When he caught on to the direction this conversation was going, his face heated up and his heart thumped a new beat. It was then he noticed how dangerously close their faces were while she stared back expectantly at him.

He'd turned the lights down after she begged him to, something he was beginning to regret now that the soft shadows in the room made everything seem so sultry, heady, and overwhelming.

Suddenly, Max sat up near the edge of the bed, elbows rested on his knees.

"I think...you should get some rest." He mumbled, and left the room, left her in the blink of an eye.

She could have his bed. He would sleep on the couch tonight.

* * *

Their youngest sibling Chloe had gotten her oldest siblings to spend the afternoon with her and play tea party. Of course, they would rather be spending their time doing something else, separately, but how could they say ' _no_ ' to that cute little face?

"We used to play like this all the time when we were kids." Phoebe tries her best to get Max to stop making the face where she can see all the lines in his forehead.

He sighs heavily and pulls back the curtain hanging in their baby sister's room.

"More tea?" Chloe's sweet little voice breaks through their lackluster tension.

Phoebe smiled brightly while holding out her toy cup for Chloe to pretend pour into.

She was the princess of Hiddenville, trapped in a castle waiting for her ' _knight in shining armor_ ' to save her. She thought it was incredibly cliché since they lived in the twenty-first century and women were very much capable of taking care of themselves, but for her little sister's sake she would play along.

Max came out from behind the curtain, dragging his feet, world domination was being put on hold for this nonsense. "Ma'am." He shoved his hand out in front of Phoebe's face for her to take.

"Be nice, Max…" Chloe warned, hugging her teddy bear closer to herself. It was like she was directing some kind of play, and if she wasn't so adorable he wouldn't have cooperated.

He rolled his eyes, before clearing his throat. "M'lady." He got down on one knee and took Phoebe's hand in his own, before sitting beside her.

She tried to hide the blush that crept across her cheeks when she saw the tenderness in his stormy brown eyes. _This was all an act_. She told herself.

Chloe smiled while she watched them silently. "Kiss her," She commanded in all her naiveté.

 _What?!_

Both their heads snap towards her. Max blinks and tries to comprehend the meaning of her words, several emotions –namely all that relate to shock surge through him and he can't think of anything to say.

"…N-now Chloe, sweetie, Max and I are brother and sister, we can't kiss." Never in a million years did she think she would be having this conversation, and if she could, she would have just died right in this spot.

"No," she said, certainty clearly on her young face. "He's a knight and you're a princess." Her hands fly up over her head in celebration, as if coming to terms that this is exactly how it works in fairy tales.

Which in a way was very much true, but…

Phoebe could only turn to Max, silently pleading for help with her eyes. Usually, he finds some way to make everything worse. But not this time.

He whispered loud enough for only her to hear. "Just a kiss on the cheek," His words make him stop. He didn't mean to say _that_ , not that way. He falls silent, thinking and not thinking about it in equal measure.

But Phoebe is seriously giving this idea the green light. She turns to fully face his side.

"Thank you for saving me kind sir." She saved faced before placing her lips onto his cheek. Besides the subtle scruff of his facial hair, his skin was really soft against her, and she pulled back thankful it was finally over, even if her lips did linger for a moment.

But Chloe simply shook her head, "Real kiss or no happily ever after." Then she began crying, her hands covering her face.

"Oh God, make her stop crying, please." Max's whined.

In Phoebe's mind everything has slowed down and her lower stomach twists in knots, thinking that their best option would be to just kiss each other and get it over with, all so their sister would stop sobbing. She doesn't want to do this, and she has to constantly remind herself –that's normal, right, that this is all so Chloe can be happy again.

 _It's just pretend_.

She places her hand gingerly onto Max's bigger one, it gets his attention. She looks into his eyes and nods.

"Are you serious…?" His tone isn't in complete surprise, but still he does feel guilty for something he can't put a finger on. All he knows is she's telling him it's okay to kiss her, and there's nausea and delight running through him.

"Just kiss me." Her words sounded foreign to her own ears. Every inch of her body humming with anticipation.

There's a brief pause before he even attempts to do anything.

"Wait." Max stares at Phoebe. "Why do I have to kiss you, why can't you kiss me?"

Typical Max. Honestly, she has no clue why he would want to start an argument on who should kiss who first, but she should have known he was going to make this difficult.

"Because it's the ' _Knight in Shining Armor's_ ' job to kiss the princess," She said through gritted teeth, eyes big because her brother really could be a dunce at times.

"Fine, whatever." He mumbled, and pulled her towards him gently and she stumbled, her hands landing against his chest.

She gasped nervously as she looked up and her forehead bumped his nose. Max stared deeply into her brown eyes, and slid a hand to her hip, the other cupping her face. Phoebe's eyes fluttered shut, leaning in as she felt Max's breath tickling her face.

"Chloe?" They both sprang apart. "Time for your nap!" Their mother called from beyond the door, before entering. "Oh, hey kids. What games were you guys playing?" She asked, eyes drifting between her two oldest while she moved to scoop Chloe up into her arms.

But Max and Phoebe, didn't answer.

They didn't say anything.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm Back! Whoop whoop, but I wanted to get something out, before I started to feel like taking a break from writing. These two need more stories. I don't know what else to say besides giving some shoutouts to the other fandoms around. If you're reading this, you'll know exactly what I mean once you finish reading everything. Enjoy the Thundercest please!**

Phoebe nonchalantly walked into the Mattress store. She knows his schedule like the back of her hand –and that's perfectly normal. Max had forgotten his lunch in the refrigerator and she just didn't think a cold sandwich and a sports drink were going to cut it, and so she decided to leave those at home.

Max doesn't always forget his lunch. Sometimes he's too busy, too focused, too preoccupied with showing off to the retired villain. Phoebe gets it. She understands in a strange way, but with Max gone all the time there's a small part of her that craves _something_. It stays gnawing in the back of her mind, and she chooses to ignore it.

Whatever it is.

Phoebe sees him head to one of the vending machines in the back of the store. She quietly follows and watches the groan spill from his lips when he reached into his pockets and realized he'd also forgotten his wallet. She bites down on her bottom lip to hold back the laugh, fixes her face, and folds her arms behind her back.

"Phoebe, what are you doing here?" Max sighed. She doesn't understand how he always knows it's her when she's trying to sneak up on him, he finally turns to look in her direction.

He's still faintly angry, but his eyes are tired.

Bothered, a little stressed, but mostly he's okay.

She lets out a sigh, loosening the tension she hadn't realized she'd been holding on to. "I brought you some lunch." She meekly holds up a bag of takeout, and the lines in his forehead disappear. "I brought enough for two."

Finally, she comes to the realization that she misses him.

She sees him all the time and yet she still misses him.

How ironic.

"I don't know if you're allowed in the break room." He says, and there's a shimmer of light in his eyes that she understands as astonishment because she really went through all this trouble to bring him lunch while he's too busy trying to get a one-up on all of his co-workers and impress his boss.

"Oh come on, it's not that big of a deal. Plus, you're off the clock right now aren't you?" Her eyebrows raise in a way that she only does when she's teasing him, she's never one to break the rules, but he's never one to follow them and for his sake and rumbling stomach, he leads them into the small boxy room with his key card.

"We can do the tables over there, or whatever," He mumbled, waving a hand in the general direction of a few long benched tables for multi-purpose use.

Phoebe nods amiably and they make their way over, sitting across from each other, and digging in.

Things are quiet for a time, both of them too focused on their food to focus on each other, but about halfway through her yellow rice, Phoebe looks up to Max watching her.

"What?" She asked, suddenly self-conscious. She quickly swipes a napkin across her mouth. "I've got something on my face, or...?"

"No." Max interrupted, shaking his head and smirking down at his plate. She looks at him suspiciously for a second, but when he doesn't crack she goes back to pushing her food around her plate a little.

She's hit that point where she could stop eating, this was only a dumb idea to find some time to spend with him, and now things are beginning to feel like something similar to an awkward date. Why didn't she think any of this through? Max wasn't her boyfriend, why should she care if he starved during his shifts? It wasn't her job to bring him food.

She purses her lips, pondering.

"How are things back home?" Max asks distractedly while pushing his vegetables off his plate and onto hers. She allows him too, but only because he let her split half of his spring roll.

"Really Max? It's not like you're gone _that_ often." She said through a hearty bite, licking the excess off the corners of her mouth.

She sees Max's eyes follow the path of her tongue across her lips, a quicksilver flash away from her eyes. It's instant, almost instinctive, and she's wondering if it should it be?

She doesn't comment on it, though.

"But..." She laments, carefully sliding her plate within reach again and grabbing her fork. "I didn't realize how much you actually help around the house until I had to do it alone." It takes a moment for her to acknowledge that their conversation sounds like they're a married couple.

Max nodded his head, lazily bringing more noodles to his mouth with a simple smile. Seconds pass and his foot nudge her calf softly beneath the table and when she looks up he's biting his lip and staring steadily. She tilts her head to the side, and takes a quick breath, her heartbeat suddenly a little quicker, a little sharper.

"What?" She needled, narrowing her eyes and tapping the toe of his shoe with hers.

 _Tap. Tap. Tap._

"Nothing." Max doesn't stop biting his lip, but he does drop his gaze, looking up at her from underneath his thick eyebrows. "Except for the fact that you miss me."

There's a slight curl of her lips and it spreads into a grin. His bottom lip is still pulled in between his teeth and he smiles through it. The cocky jerk.

"I really don't." She looks down and back up, eyes meeting his brown ones briefly, before sliding away again.

"You do." Max presses on with unreadable eyes, and she doesn't know what he's getting at, but the feeling brings an unknown sense of thrill into her.

"You wish." She challenged back, mixing his vegetables into her rice. She's getting annoyed by how good he looks in his uniform and how his stupid tie matches his eye color.

"Don't have to," He actually seemed vaguely amused, and when their eyes locked there was something in his, liquid and burning and trying to…provoke her. "No one can resist Max Thunderman's charm."

Phoebe decided it was best to leave it alone. Hardly another word was spoken between the two, and the only sound in the room was the gentle whirling of the ceiling fan. For a long moment they ate in silence –a silence that she hoped would go back to the normal she first felt before she walked into the store, instead this silence felt…heavy.

And without warning, Max's foot bumps hers again.

* * *

"I won these tickets in a radio contest…and I want to take this girl, but I think she might turn me down."

There are a million and one reasons on why he thinks he shouldn't be doing this, maybe not thinking about it too much should help (it won't), but he's here now and there is no going back, he already redeemed his coupon for one ' _Mother Son Heart-to-Heart_ ' talk.

"Tell me about this girl." Barb trails off, expectantly looking at him, unable to contain her excitement. "What does she like? Does she care about school, her family, is she pretty?"

"All the above a-and she's beautiful, but she's definitely _unattainable_." He avoids eye contact and he's wondering if that makes it obvious who he's talking about.

"Unattainable is she?" Barb laughs and it doesn't help Max feel any better. "Sounds like you two don't always get along."

"Most times we don't, but she's always been there…for me." He moves one leg out to stretch while folding his hands in his lap. His mother places her hand on his knee.

"Well, Max, it sounds like you really like this girl, so ask Phoebe,"

Max swears his eyes bulge out of his head. "What?" He said in a rushed breath.

"I meant ask Phoebe's opinion on this," Barb suggested stone-faced, not missing Max's sudden reaction, but pretending she didn't notice it. "See what she thinks about all this, maybe she can help you?"

Max tries really hard to ignore the way his heart lurches in his chest when he thinks about his mother's implications. The poor woman already had enough on her plate, the last thing she needed was to deal with one of her kids having forbidden feelings for their sibling.

He nodded while his mother pulls back from their hug and makes her way back up the stairs to her bedroom. He stared long and hard at the two concert tickets in his hand. Is he really going to ask her? He doesn't even like the boyband, he's more of a hard rock type of guy, but he knows they're her favorite and these thoughts have taken root in his very core, growing at a rate that he can't slow down.

"Hey, Max!"

There she is, coming through the front door, returning from dance practice. Her hair is up in a messy bun with loose strands hanging at the side of her face, she looks very much disheveled and it's messing with his head.

She sends a smile his way and walks passed him into the kitchen, and at that moment in his mind he swears time has slowed down and she's walking a runway.

 _Pull it together, Max._ He rolled his neck and shoulders, before heading where she was.

Phoebe is leaning against the counter, head tipped back while she drinks her water, of course, dancers naturally had to keep their bodies hydrated, the fact makes his eyes run all over hers and he nervously coughs to deal with his dry throat.

"Is something wrong?" Her face squishes and her eyes light up at the thought of a quick taunt coming to mind. "On second thought, don't answer that."

Already she was starting with the teasing. Good. He could handle that.

"Careful with the insults, _Dweebs_ , you might regret it later." His eyes darken when they meet hers, and the corner of Phoebe's lips curl into a smirk and –smirking was usually his thing, but he swore to himself he would do everything in his power to get her to do it more often.

"That seems highly unlikely." She pushed passed him to finally head to her room, and Max mentally panics.

"-Almost as unlikely as these…" He holds up the two tickets and Phoebe's eyes widen. She reaches to snatch them to get a better look, but he pulls back in the nick of time.

"Where did you get those?"

"Don't worry about where, just worry about what you're going to wear."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm going to take –to…to give you these so you can go with Cherry." It dawns on him that he can't do it, his thoughts have run away with him again and doubt ensues. After planning for weeks, jamming his phone signal to the radio tower, he realizes how screwed up he is.

Phoebe's looking up at him, her dark brown eyes intensely searching for some clue concerning the sudden change in his behavior. He just wants her to drop it.

"What's the catch?" She asks and tentatively reaches for the tickets he's holding out.

"There is no catch, I hate those guys, so take the tickets." He let out in a grumble, already upset with himself for getting his hopes up and crushing his dreams all at once.

"Really?" He rolled his eyes but nodded regardless. "Thank you, thank you so much, Max!"

In an instant, her arms are tucked around his back as she hugs him, the scent of cinnamon apple hits him like a sucker punch to the gut, but overall he really loves having her in his arms. She fits him like a puzzle piece and they're wound up together so tightly, he's sure she can feel his heart thumping in his chest. It's the best he's felt in a long while.

When Phoebe recognizes what she's done –what they're doing, she pulls back quickly, embarrassment all over her face as Max's hands slowly glide from off her waist and slap to his sides. She's gone in a blink and he slams the button to his lair slide.

Maybe next time.

* * *

Phoebe sighed to herself, anxiously munching on a few baby carrots. Cherry didn't come to school today because her mother made her take the day off to retake her driver's test. It meant good news for them if she passed, Phoebe wouldn't have to walk to school anymore. She refused to use Chloe like Max did, she wouldn't risk their secret being exposed.

But this meant Phoebe was alone, a nervous wreck sitting in lunch as she waited for the inevitable. She had heard the rumors all week and now, on a Friday she was ready to commence operation 'Delta'.

" _Please. Just to get him off my back."_

" _What do I get out of this?"_

" _The Hero-League has intel on Dark Mayhem's secret base. I can get you the documents."_

" _Deal."_

She knew it was a bad –terrible idea, but she was running out of them and on a day like this, it was her only chance. Everything was going to be fine, and then once it was over they would move on and never speak of it. Plus, she wasn't actually going to give him those documents in the first place. That was the plan and she was betting on everything.

Like clockwork, Bryan Daniels, who was in her Civics class before Advanced Mathematics, quickly came to take a seat across from her. He was a sweet guy, a little on the nerdy side and Phoebe could tell he had a small crush on her since the start of this year, but she just wasn't interested.

"Hello, Phoebe Thunderman." He grinned, his voice nasally and high. He sat with his hands folded on the table, an inquiring look on his freckled face.

"H-hey, Bryan. What's up?" She shifted her eyes to her ranch dressing, dipping another carrot in the cream before popping it into her mouth.

"Will you go out with me?" He practically said all in one breath, and Phoebe actually lost hers.

As in quite literally, she began choking. Beating her chest to push the food down the right pipe. Suddenly, she's looking around desperately for Max, who said he would be here _on time_.

"That's really…sweet of you –and um, I-I wish I could, but you see…" She tried really hard to school her features into something that looked calm and collected, but she ended up resembling someone in pain.

"Please, just one date. You know when two political parties can't come to an agreement they-"

"Hey, Pheebs!"

Max, her saving grace, quickly sat next to her. Waves of relief rippled down her spine. She wanted to pull him to the side and yell at him because as usual he was late, but she decided to shrug it off. He was already here, sitting extremely close and she didn't want to think about how naturally her body gravitated towards his. This already was a weird situation that she didn't want to draw more attention to.

"Uh, Bryan this is Max, my b-"

"-Boyfriend." He interrupted while slipping an arm gracelessly around her waist, pulling her even closer to the point where it felt like she was sitting in his lap.

"Boyfriend?" Bryan skeptically repeated which he should have been because the uneasy expression on Phoebe's face surely was going to give them away. "Just yesterday I saw him fraternizing with Rebecca Miller. Certainly not boyfriend material if you ask me."

 _Who the heck is Rebecca Miller?_ Phoebe's mind enviously thought –no it wasn't envy and it wasn't jealousy either.

"No. She was asking for notes and I told her to take a hike." Max explained smugly to the geek making false accusations, all while his fingers slowly ran up and down the side of her body, unknowingly making her mind spin dizzily. "Phoebe, is my girlfriend."

"What are you _doing_?" Phoebe asked, through her wide-eyed smile, while trying to keep track of his face. He was totally going off script, the PDA was supposed to go no further than hand holding. She didn't even want to think about the way he called her his 'girlfriend' made her heart pound wildly against her ribcage.

He only ignored her, but she saw the glint flicker in his eyes. _Did he think this was funny_? She quickly pulled his roaming hand from off her thigh and yanked it around her shoulders. Forcibly laughing and smiling through her humiliation. Things were happening way too fast and she didn't know what was going on.

But Bryan still looked unconvinced. "How long have you two been dating?"

"A year."

"Two weeks."

They both said in unison, and Bryan crossed his arms and squinted his eyes in disbelief. They weren't helping their case.

"…Uh, what we meant to say was…a year and two weeks." Phoebe lamely added, distractedly, secretly wishing Max would stop playing with the strands of her hair around her neck, but also praying he'd never stop.

"This doesn't make any sense," Bryan exclaimed, arms flying up, exasperated. "Usually, you two are seen around school arguing."

"Hey, we don't argue we bicker, sometimes it's called flirting, get it right." Max quickly corrected, and Phoebe just sat there arguably stunned and fascinated. She didn't have a clue where all this was coming from, but she couldn't help but wonder if their bickering could be seen as flirting to some. Was this the reason why none of the boys in their school tried to ask her out?

"But statistics have shown couples who-"

"Look, kid, Phoebe and I are dating, always have, always will be, okay." His eyebrows narrowed and Phoebe could feel it in his grip around her. He was obviously getting annoyed. "Now do you want it in writing or should I just show you how _unavailable_ she is?" The tone in his voice was serious, really serious.

Phoebe finds herself worried by how much of a natural Max is at this role. No, she's not attracted to him taking charge of the situation, there was nothing hot about the way his jaw clenched in anger, and her mind wasn't screaming ' _yes_ ' that her boyfriend –Max (an honest mistake) should just kiss her so Bryan would leave them alone.

 _Calm down you dork none of this is real!_ And she doesn't know if her mind is telling Max or herself this.

Poor Bryan didn't stand a chance, and he got the hint and quickly shuffled his things and was back inside the Mess Hall. Max smirked and watched him wander off because his brilliant –yet very risky plan had worked.

And then Phoebe smacked him.

"Hey! What was that for?!" He pulled away from her to rub on his now hurting arm.

"For fraternizing with Rebecca Miller." She smiled tightly, gathered up her books and walked away right before the second bell rang.

* * *

She always wanted to talk, and he kind of listened on and on about whatever nonsense that happened in her day. But today she didn't want to talk.

 _The Max Phoebe twin thing was over._

He messed up. Just about the biggest mistake anyone can make, he'd gone and done it. Of all the stupid things he's done in his life, he can definitely write this as number one in the chronicle sitting in his hands.

In his mind she'll forgive him, that's what he's trying to reprogram his brain to believe. She'll smack a book out of his hand and stick her tongue out at him. He'd rather that then let his mind betray him (again) and envision the way her eyes lit up, or how that cute little dimple on her cheek would pop up when she scrunches her face in embarrassment.

She doesn't need to be saving his life or keeping his deep secrets of villainy. He doesn't need to be skipping classes so she gets the lead in choir or staying up all night rolling Japanese fireworks. But they do it anyways. That's also the part 'Max Phoebe twin thing'.

Phoebe has grown so much over the years, both mentally and physically. He's noticed, God help him, he's very much aware. He's grown too, maybe it's more physical than mental, but does regret what he's done. He swears to the moon and stars that this isn't _over,_ and she's not done wasting her time on him.

It's been three days! Three days since she stormed out of his lair, and he felt like they were the longest three days in his whole life. She ignored him during dinner, in school, at home but everywhere he went she somehow found her way back in his mind.

 _I'm gonna fix this._

Here he was, standing in front of her room door. He knocks once, then twice and waits. The door slowly opens, revealing Phoebe, who looks all the way done and he hasn't even said two words yet, she closes her room door behind her, standing with him in their quiet hallway.

"Pheebs, listen I know you said you're done with the 'Max Phoebe twin thing' but I'm hoping all this changes your mind." He squints his face, and his stomach is feeling queasy as he sheepishly waits for some kind of answer.

"I don't know, Max." She quickly breathed, and her back is already turned towards her door.

"Wait." Before his mind knows what he's doing he's reaching out to her, his hand brushing gently across her back as Phoebe all but reluctantly turned around to face him. "I know you don't think I have a heart, but I do, it's…small but it's there-"

"You still going with that?" He could feel she was about two seconds away from slamming her door in his face.

Max looks up defeated, frustrated, but patient all at once. "This time it's true, okay." His voice is light and Phoebe crosses her arms, willing to listen but doubt written all over her face. At least she's willing to give him her undivided attention, he appreciates that. "I'm not good at this…"

"So you thought you could just waltz up here and I'd magically forgive you?" Phoebe interrogated further because clearly there was just no way in hell she was going to let something like this go.

"Kinda hoping…?" He trails off, running a hand through his unruly hair and he's pleading with her at this point because that's all he's got.

"I thought you had my back, but obviously I was wrong." She fired back, all disappointed and it grated at his nerves. She was doing something to him that was making him feel _wrong_.

"I did –I still do."

"No," She shook her head. "You're always hurting me and I don't understand why. Is some diary more important than me?"

"N-no, look I can't think straight and I'm trying to make things right and you aren't letting me." He stepped closer to her, hoping that this new proximity would get her to back away from this topic.

"Why should I make it easy for you all the time?" She stepped closer a couple inches, matching the intensity of his gaze. "I've been doing that all my life. Why can't you tell me why you always hurt me?"

"…I don't know why," He breaks off, but in the deep recesses of his mind he knows exactly why. The terrifying part is her not having a clue. "I just do it."

"Why?" She cried out, aggravated. "What have I ever done to you-"

Without thinking, Max surges forward, cupping her face in his hands, and she gasps, struggling for breath as she desperately waits for him to do something. _Anything_. The air around them is thick with a subtle but very much present longing for intimacy. Phoebe's face has abandoned all concern and she's left looking up at Max with a yielding expression on her face. Watching for any movement he makes.

She stared at him, at the open desperation on his face and it's something she's never seen before. He is still for what seems to be an eternity, not sure what to do next, except allow this all-consuming need to kiss her like his life depended on it to run hot pursuit in his mind. His thumbs trace the corners of her parted lips, and his eyes - heavy with desire - selfishly follow.

This is a moment of clarity, so severe and utterly _real_ , so solid, that they both have difficulty breathing. He drops his head closer to their demise, and Phoebe unconsciously shrinks a little more of the distance. It's all enough to make him snap back to reality and he takes full responsibility for what he was about to put them through.

Max just squeezes his eyes shut and touches his forehead to hers, it reaches up and grabs hold of him, the guilt he feels. Phoebe looks down, face sober but torn.

"I care about you..." Max begins.

"Way more than I should." Phoebe finishes.

It's not even that it would never happen, but that it _can't_ happen.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Inb4 the Thundercest kiss. Just kidding!**

Phoebe berated herself as she leaned her ear harder against her room door. Out of respect she should have pulled away and let her parents handle Max on their own, only if the gnawing feeling twisting in her gut didn't tell her otherwise.

She knew it was a bad idea, utterly stupid in fact, but she did it regardless. They both did. Fun was had and now there were... consequences.

 _"A college party really?"_

She winced when she heard her mother utter those particular words from beyond her door. Flashbacks all sharply come back to her mind. She told herself she was going do to was get him out of there and get them straight home. That was the plan... then came the music, the lights, the game of beer pong and then it all came crumbling down.

 _"...Drinking?! Are you serious!"_

Phoebe groaned aloud. When had their dad come home? It wasn't fair that Max was probably going to get the punishment of the century, but what made everything ten times worse...

Just when she thought she had him figured out.

There was a slam beyond the hallway adjacent her bedroom, the bark of the door made her flinch. She concluded her parents were done scolding Max.

Late into the afternoon, just when she felt it was safe enough Phoebe cracked her door open. In fear of being caught, she was extra light on her feet, thankful for her advantage of being a dancer. Quickly, she scurried down into his lair.

Max was lost in thought, hastily lifting both weights in his hands, speeding up then slowing down. He's in a tank top that clings to him almost like a second skin, freely showing off his arms. The swell of his biceps jump with every curl that he brings up to his chest.

 _Wow, he looks..._

Just before hitting the last step, she suddenly she finds herself stumbling over both her feet.

"Phoebe?!" Max placed the heavy dumbbells back onto the rack and crosses his arms over his chest. "What are you doing here?"

It takes one hundred percent more effort than it should to will herself not to stare at the way his arms flex even as he stands so condescendingly.

"W-what are you doing?" She grimaces and shakes the thoughts, feelings, and images out of her head sharply, chiding herself to stop acting so weird and wrack her brain for why in the world was she down here in the first place.

"I'm grounded for life, remember? Might as well do something productive." Max responded cryptically.

Oh... she just remembered everything that had happened within the last twenty-four hours. The guilt quickly seeped in. "Why'd you do it?"

"Do what?" An eyebrow rose as he scratched the back of his head.

Of course, he's going to make her work for this. "Cover for me."

Dropping his hand, Max stepped back and began examining her, Phoebe watched the wheels turn in his head. "...Because" He looked down. "I... I didn't want you to get in trouble alright." His voice is curt as if it's the end of their discussion.

But Phoebe contemplates. Somehow Max always knew what to do to make her move however he wished, pushing her right into his traps. He was the one that boasted about his band being invited to play at a college party, knowing it was a terrible idea. It was as if there was always something that had them inadvertently sharing the same experiences.

They were two peas in a pod, partners in crime —minus the crime part and maybe the reason he decided he wanted to take all the blame was because...

Instantly it dawns on her.

"I know why." She stresses the ' _y_ ' in a sing-song voice. "You _care_ about me." She ignores the testy look on his face, this had to explain why her name never slipped from his lips in front of their parents, even though she was as much in the wrong —and just as drunk— as he was. "Come here." She holds her arms out, insistent on a hug.

Phoebe felt a glimmer of satisfaction as his eyes darkened angrily. Max looks as if he wants to argue a counter proposal, but eventually he sucks his teeth and complies. "Fine, whatever."

She wrapped her arms around his neck. He pulled her in close and a small gasp of shock escaped her. His embrace was warm, his arms, powerful yet yielding seemed very protective when wrapped around her. Phoebe found herself on a high that was unlike anything she had ever experienced before.

Never in a million years would she have thought Max and gentle were something to go hand in hand and yet here they were. When his hands skimmed lower and brushed against her back and waist, she pulled back. He's so close that she can see the small beads of sweat taking directionless trails down his face. Phoebe nervously gulps air, her eyes drift from between their bodies to his taunting eyes.

Max blows out hot air and Phoebe runs a frazzled hand through her.

"We're never going to hug like that again, agreed."

"Agreed."

* * *

"God, I hate this." She hid her face further into his neck when a clap of thunder, this one the loudest yet, roared out into the wet sky.

"Your last name's Thunderman for crying out loud." His arms tightened around her body on reflex.

His lair was the best place to be when it stormed, in his not-so-humble opinion. Phoebe had come knocking sharply on his door at one in the morning during a particularly loud thunderstorm. Practically, tackling him in all his grogginess, she didn't say much, but he knew enough.

"Shut up, Max." Her voice was muffled against his skin, and he couldn't help but draw out a shaky breath. As they got older there were reasons why they didn't do this anymore.

He shook his head, pushing those thoughts away. It didn't matter, at least not right now. He couldn't remember the last time Phoebe had needed comfort in his presence. If there was one thing she hated, it was being vulnerable.

"It's just so loud..." Her voice was barely a whisper in the room. If he hadn't been so attuned to every sound she made, he would have missed it.

"But you're usually louder, Pheebs." He murmured back, calmly teasing her as his eyes focusing on the window and the dark sky outside. Anything to make his chest stop swelling in content, he was an _aspiring_ villain and feelings like these were nothing but a distraction.

"You're really pushing it." Even when she was frightened, she still could sound so chastising. It didn't matter much to him, though, it wasn't like she was going to threaten to leave him. She was too chicken for that.

The room was illuminated again as another flash of lightning sparked across the sky. He could feel her tense against him, and pulled her closer into his arms just the slightest. She cringed and burrowed deeper into him as the next boom of thunder resonated.

The storm didn't show any signs in slowing down and all that had done was cause Phoebe to cling onto him like a second skin.

He would have laughed and called her a "nerd" for reacting this way to some little storm but she was holding the collar of his shirt so tight it was starting to dig into his skin.

"Phoebe? Phoebe! Let go you're starting to hurt me." He rasped.

"Oh," She quickly pried her hands off the front of his shirt. Sitting up and staring down at him embarrassingly giving him a lopsided grin. "Sorry, Max."

"Yeah, yeah, just don't kill me..." He grunted, and guided her back down to lay beside him, uncommitted to admitting that he actually missed the warmth she provided.

"Thanks, Max." She sighed into his chest.

Her breaths deepened, and the storm's paced slowed down. She was falling asleep in his arms. Relaxing back against his pillow, he held her close, letting her smaller frame curl around his.

"I..." He trailed softly, wishing he could just say the words he had such trouble telling her.

 _Care about you._

"I know." She murmured sleepily into his neck and dozed off.

* * *

Max was convinced there was someone up there that hated him. Why him? What could he have possibly done to deserve such cruel and unfair treatment? Was doing whatever he wanted whenever he wanted worth all this? He wanted to groan out his frustration but he was in no mood to get ' _shushed_ ' for the sixth time.

 _"What is that?" Phoebe exclaimed, pointing at him but in no particular direction._

 _"What is what?" He stared down at himself. Nope. There weren't any stains on his clothes._

 _"That," She said, still pointing while walking closer. "This." She quickly pulled up the hem of his black t-shirt, displaying what she couldn't believe she was seeing._

 _She audibly gasped._

 _"You got a tattoo?!" There she goes again with that finger pointing at him, then she covered her mouth with her hand. A new sense of excitement on her face. "Dad is so going to kill you."_

 _Rudely, he plucked the bottom half of his shirt out of her prying hands, quickly covering the fresh ink on the upper left side of his torso."Dad isn't going to find out." He dipped low, eyebrows furrowed in fear of anyone hearing their conversation.  
_

 _"Oh yeah? What's in it for me?" She crossed her arms over her chest, smugly showing no hope in teaming up if it didn't benefit her in any way.  
_

 _Max felt that desperate times called for desperate measures._

 _"I'll do whatever you want, just don't tell a soul –you have to Thundertwin swear!" He held his hand out to her._

He rolled his eyes exaggeratingly when he heard Phoebe politely clear her throat. There was nothing _nice_ about what she was making him do. He flicked his thumb across his tongue and turned another page from the book she was reading. She nudged her knee against his and he gave her the nastiest look he could muster.

Begrudgingly, he bent the straw to her strawberry smoothie, bringing it closer to her mouth as she sipped quietly, smirking to hide her grin. She was enjoying this way too much.

Max slumped further in his left hand, his body draped entirely over the table they were sitting at. Bored easily read across his face as he fought with himself to stay awake. Honestly, what normal teenage girl spent most of her free time studying at the library? None other than Phoebe Thunderman.

He caught another wandering eye on their table, one of the students from his Calc class was staring directly at them. He almost thought she relished in it. Didn't she find it the least bit embarrassing that they were together like this? Well, then two could play that game. An idea struck him.

"Ahem..." Phoebe mumbled grabbing his attention and that was his cue to the turn the next page. He did his job, but instead, he took the opportunity to flip backward in the book.

And when Phoebe shot him a long glare and turned to the proper page herself, Max had seen that as a victory... but it wasn't enough.

He leaned over further while she was reading, pushed through her wavy brown locks and started tugging on the lower part of her ear lobe. When Phoebe swiped her head to the side and gave him a look that he dubbed _'The Look_ ' he knew he was treading on dangerous waters.

All he could do was smile, _quietly_. Phoebe let it go quickly, eyes fluttering back to whatever she was reading.

 _Who knew the library could be so much fun?_

Anticipating her annoyance was the easy part, pushing her over the brink was the hard —but very rewarding, part of his task. Max scooted closer in his seat and as he pulled her straw away from her lips just before she could get close enough savor her drink. He stifled his laughter, but his shoulders still shook uncontrollably.

Having found his antics to be the last straw, both figuratively and literally, Phoebe swung her knee into his leg. Well, at least tried to. Max was quick enough to intercept her knee with his hand, and he applied a small but warning pressure against her thigh.

Max eyed her intensely, fixing her with a probing gaze that had to have affected her. He was daring her to do something, laughing humorlessly in his mind, knowing she wasn't going to do anything stupid in public, let alone in a place that would obviously bring attention to them.

It was her fault, to begin with, she was the one that dragged them into this. Going as far as to make him do literally everything for her. Carry her books, do all her assigned chores , or even listen to her gossip about boys (he _hated_ that). If this was his only chance of seeking out revenge then so be it!

His eyebrows rose as he took an obnoxiously loud slurp of her smoothie. Face saying _'go ahead, I dare you'_.

But Phoebe simply smirked, and he should have known had he not have been frozen in his seat what was going to happen next. She slowly, dare he say almost seductively loomed over in her chair and brought her head dangerously close to his ear.

 _"I'll just tell Dad."_

She whispered it in the most breathy tone he had ever heard and even though that was clearly a threat his blood hadn't run cold because of it. As if he had completely forgotten he had a tattoo of bible scriptures on the side of his ribcage.

It was at that very moment he felt something ripple, splinter, and crack as he watched Phoebe swiftly sit back in her chair. He gaped at her, their unspoken, undefined flirting was usually fueled by his wrongdoing. Since when had Phoebe gotten so bold?

The hand that was burning patterns into her skin slowly slipped away as he leaned all the way back into his seat and stared at the far distance in front of him.

Two could play the game... only one could be the winner.

* * *

Quiet. There had been nothing but quiet in this house for what felt like a long time now.

At first, Phoebe was extremely happy for Max, his first "real" relationship meant he could finally spend his time focusing on other stuff instead of becoming a villain. But things have uncharacteristically changed between them. She barely gets to see him, and whenever they have just a second together that usually ended in an argument that had them avoiding each other for days.

Phoebe sighed to herself before dragging her tired feet out of her bed and heading towards the kitchen for a snack.

Something, or rather _someone_ was blocking the entryway to the fridge. Max had his back to her, and he was mindlessly rummaging through the fridge. He popped back up sporting two cans and shoved the door closed with a bump of his hip.

And then he stopped dead in his tracks.

There was _supposed_ to be no one home except for her and Max. This was the third time this week Max had brought Allison down to his lair. He didn't know but despite herself, she'd been secretly keeping tabs.

Phoebe's temper quickly flared and she looked up at him sharply, ready to start arguing because she knew what exactly what was going on and what probably had been happening right under her nose. There was that, _oh so_ annoyingly familiar feeling bubbling up inside her again, stretching tightly throughout her.

"What's with the two cans of soda?" She's asking —interrogating— arms crossed, clearly blocking Max from his destination.

Max stared down at his hands, busted, but he won't admit to that. "One is for... Colosso —you know how he loves his Root Beer!" He quickly blurted out and tried veer left to skirt passed her, but Phoebe refused to budge an inch.

There he was again, doing things to irritate her to no end. She had every inkling of this taking a turn for the worse, but she found herself caring less and less. "I know _she's_ down there." Phoebe cut straight to the chase.

She expected Max to try to play dumb and smooth talk his way out of this mess, thus bringing to life another pointless argument. But as many times as Phoebe tried her very best to avoid starting a fight with her brother, _this_ was just something she wouldn't let slide.

"You gonna tell Mom and Dad?" He caved, and there was something about the way his shoulders slumped and how regret laced with his tone had Phoebe feeling a sense of accomplishment.

He deserves to feel guilty for what he's done.

Especially for not knowing how much this had been affecting her.

"I should," He rolls his eyes. Her chest tightens. "You know the rule about bringing girlfriends or boyfriends to our rooms."

He inches closer and there's a new pep in his step that has her both transfixed and internally shaking her head with disdain. She didn't understand why Max was so insistent on breaking _every_ rule imaginable.

"Yes, I know this, but as a guy, I definitely enjoy breaking that particular rule." He had the nerve to gloat, smiling thinly at her.

Phoebe took a sure step forward, suddenly very conscious of how close they were but pushing that to the back of her mind. Her confidence came with a vengeance. "Congrats, all those years of being single and alone leading up to this _one_ moment." She blinked back sarcastically, jabbing purposely to strike where she knew would hurt.

She watched as Max huffed out his nose and tilted his head off to the side. A beat of silence passed over them and he smirked to himself seemingly coming to terms that starting a fight like this wasn't worth it.

"Whatever Phoebe," He dismissively waved her off. "Jealously doesn't look good on you." His voice was alarmingly low and he roughly bumped shoulders with her, finding his route back to his lair. To _her_.

That did it.

Before her brain could process what she was doing, she had taken a step forward, an outstretched hand grabbed at his shoulder and yanked him back to face her.

But then her anger mysteriously faded away. It happened in an instant. The next thing she knew, she was pressed up against Max's chest, both wrists gripped firmly within his hands and pinned above her head.

Phoebe was startled by the indefinable something that was shimmering behind Max's darkening eyes - eyes that were now slowly traveling down the length of her. Even more disturbing was the vaguely menacing air coming off him, something she had never sensed from him before... it sent a little shiver down her spine.

Wordlessly, Phoebe stared up at him. Now he held her down effortlessly —and he'd done it so quickly... so _easily_. She suddenly realized how strong he really was. When had this happened?

And since when did her heart hammer in her chest just because he was holding her? She found herself mesmerized by his expression and growing oddly powerless to stop him. Her body was slowly turning into jelly in his arms. She felt his grip tightening further, pressing their bodies even closer-

"...Max?" Obviously coming from the direction of his lair, Allison appeared in the doorway behind them. "Is everything...?" She trailed, a hand covering her mouth in shock and Phoebe was very confident that she might have been very worried about the position she had just found her boyfriend and his sister in.

"Everything's fine," said Max stoically, and then he quickly let go, casually pushing Phoebe off to one side.

Phoebe watched, strangely disoriented as Max wordlessly —and maybe angrily grabbed Allison's hand and they jogged back down the stairs to his lair.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Guys! The Thundermans Season 3 Finale is tonight! Please don't forget to tune in! I'm posting this now because I'd like to see if anything that I wrote happens to make an appearance in the show... *wink wink* *nudge nudge***

 _Thump. Thump. Thump._

 _Ignore...!_

This is what happens when you share most of your classes with your aggravating brother, he becomes even more aggravating!

Max sat directly behind her in their Economics class, and every day –especially on Tuesdays he took it upon himself to drive her crazier by tapping his foot on the leg of her desk chair. She didn't know if it was a nervous habit or if he simply lived to bother her. She gripped her pencil tighter while she copied the notes on the board.

Another knock and she felt like she wanted to scream. She turned her shoulder to give him the deadliest glare she could muster, but Max shrugged and their teacher told her to "keep her eyes on the board". She inwardly groaned, wanting nothing more but to tattle on the little jerk for getting her scolded.

She stares at the clock, only thirty-seven more minutes to go before she was home free. She jotted down in her notebook, scribbling more of the same notes she's had memorized before lectures even started, then something hits her neck and rolls down onto her desk.

It's a mini paper ball with writing sticking out on some of the crinkled flaps and bends. Questioningly, she unravels it and shakes her head with disdain when she sees the familiar boyish handwriting.

 _Ditch with me_.

If that was what she could make out in the incomprehensible script, she couldn't help but roll her eyes at the idea. Give it up for Max to constantly need an apprentice for his troublemaking. Smugly, she responded, and neatly folded the piece of paper before sliding it back onto his desk, unnoticed with ease.

She couldn't help but smirk at his grunt in response, and she didn't need to see his face to know that he was displeased.

He was obviously responding back because she hadn't heard his pencil go to work for this entire class. He had deliberately chosen not to learn much because "Rocket Science was the only science he needed", and in about six seconds there was that same crumpled ball staring back at her.

 _Aww_ _Dweeby is too scared to be bad ;)_

Her eyebrows rose at his words, she wants to be petty and comment that his winking face is crooked but then she quickly composes herself. These were nothing but childish games he was trying to play, it was a bait to get her to follow along in another one of his crazy schemes. Working with Max usually lead to nothing but trouble nowadays and she was not going to give in for the twentieth time.

 _ **N O**_

The words are bold and her imaginary tone is far more firm than the first time she rejected him.

She reaches behind her to give him the note, hoping to get her point across but then gasps when she finds her hand brushing up against his. His nimble fingers run along the skin of her palm and snatch the paper with urgency.

It happened in an instant, but she can still feel the tingles running up along her hand, through her arm, and straight to her heart. She pulls back, but he grabs her wrist with one hand and stuffs the note back into her grasp with the other.

Very slowly, she turns her attention back to the front of the classroom and only when the coast is clear does she read the note. It's a word that she didn't even think was in Max's vocabulary, she has to do a double take and read the word over, this had to be a prank, she flipped the paper to its back to make sure she wasn't missing the running gag.

 _Please_

Does he really want to hang out that badly that he's begging her? No way. There has to be some kind of catch, he must want something from her. The thought makes her blush, but she sidles herself from any inappropriate straying thoughts.

Instead, she's going to make him earn this.

She pulls her mouth to the side, contemplating what demands she could squeeze out of him? Quickly she writes down on the note, cautious where to place her words since there wasn't much space left to write. A quick two corner fold and the note winds up smacking against his faced down head.

 _What's in it for me?_

When it takes him a while to respond at this point she thinks he might've given up entirely, so she just goes back to paying attention in class. Grades were important to her and maintaining her 3.9 GPA was of utmost priority, she's just finding it a little bit hard to zero in on what their teacher is lecturing about.

With her focus scattered and her feelings now disappointed that he still hadn't answered, she nearly squeaked when she suddenly felt Max slide said note into her jean pocket, catching her completely off guard. What happened to him haphazardly chucking the note at her? Coming off her initial shock , she glares at him and he shrugs back, unfazed.

Now slightly annoyed, she opens the note and reads.

 _We can go to Splat Burger...I'll pay_

When she actually thinks about it, it was actually really sweet that Max wanted to spend some real time with her, in a dorky sibling kind of way that didn't make her stomach flutter. She pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth and decided he had put up a decent enough fight.

The note finds its way to Max's desk and he tapped his foot against the leg of her chair (where was Nora to laser it off?) and hearing his hum in approval had her rolling her eyes in a sarcastically dramatic way.

She'll get him back later.

* * *

"Absolutely not." And Max is already half way out the door.

How in the world did he think Phoebe could not get even more ridiculous? Suggesting that she be the lead singer for his band? Ha. Yes, it was ludicrous to even bring the notion to life, but what would his bandmates think? Of course, her voice was good, maybe even something on par with angels but –no. He wouldn't.

"Think about it. No more empty seats in the stands." She pulls on his bicep to bring him back to her, and he could have easily shrugged her off, but she's not looking for a fight. She's looking for a compromise.

"It's been proven that bands with a _female_ lead have been known to be ninety-five percent more successful."

Curse her and her statistics, but also her big brown eyes that go well with that all knowing smirk. It's not that he's entirely opposed to the idea that Phoebe's singing would increase their chances of having more gigs –and not being scammed in the process. It's that he doesn't like the idea of guys in the audience ogling over his sister. Because those chances were one hundred percent possible.

"Phoebe, for the last time I said no." He says firm, and he hates the way her shoulders deflate, but it's got to be done. "Besides, you don't even sound like ' _our_ ' sound." He says it matter-factually and there's a smirk on his face to match her previous one, but then Phoebe's eyebrows crease incredulously...

"Your sound? You stole your lyrics from my diary. Remember? The ones about Link?" Her arms cross over her chest and her body language tells him "checkmate".

She really didn't have to remind him that those cheesy poems were about her and Link when they were together. But still, he can't counter that. As if he thought for a second Phoebe would let him win just once.

Wordlessly, he turns his back and starts heading towards his lair, she follows humming a little victory tune to add insult to injury.

"Just follow my lead," Max ordered, as he slung his guitar over his shoulders, he beings strumming a simple little riff with a string of notes in between.

Phoebe sings in perfect harmony. Bringing her voice high in octave then low and raspy and the combination of both has him mesmerized. He has to stop himself and stare, he knew she used to take choir but he hadn't remembered her sounding so… heavenly.

The pain and emotion in her voice, the words –probably from another one of those dumb poems– was exactly everything their band was missing and more.

"Why'd you stop playing?" Phoebe points to his now music-less guitar.

He sputters, momentarily losing his composure and ignoring her previous question. "Phoebe, we're a rock band, I don't need one of your sad ballads, okay." He waves off dismissively.

She blushes in response and turns away embarrassed. "Sorry, it's just a little something I wrote and the cords go nicely with it… and –nevermind." She clears her throat and folds her hands in her lap.

Suddenly, there's nothing else besides the dim whirring of the air conditioner in the room as silence falls over them. Max grips the neck of his guitar a little tighter and swallows the lump in his throat, Phoebe was getting into one of those weird moods and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

"Is that why you wanted to be in our band?" He whispers, and he doesn't know why it's only the two of them here. _'To sing about your feelings?_ ' he wants to add, but then he's walking closer to where she's sitting on the edge of his bed.

Phoebe flips her hair out of her face, the motion makes their knees touch and his palms start to feel clammy, but they stay where they're at.

"It's nothing really," She tries, and fails to deflect. "Just about some guy, and I'm kinda shy –just your average girl crush stuff."

Great. Another dummy that would never be good enough for her.

"Ah, so a bunch of girlish fantasy nonsense then." It's a joke because that's all he can offer at this point and she elbows him and he laughs, glad to bring some tension out the window.

"You could call it that, there's no way a guy like him could ever fall for a girl like me." She mumbles it as her face falls.

It takes a lot of energy for Max to hold back from pulling her chin up and meeting those doe eyes again.

Cue the tension creeping its way back into the room.

He opts for what he thinks is the safer option and places a sweaty hand onto her knee, she gazes up at him, startled and –wow, she's even prettier up close– all thoughts of what he was going to tell her die on the tip of his tongue. They haven't been this close since, like, forever and the scent of cinnamon apples pulls him in like a vice around his heart.

Oh God, he thinks he's going to kiss her. Hastily he's trying to tell himself not to think anything about the way Phoebe's lips part invitingly but the alarms going off in his head are screaming ' _Do it!_ '.

"We… sh-should keep practicing." He mutters, roughly just inches away from her slightly tilted head.

A pause.

Then Phoebe snaps back to cruel reality, blush staining her face all the way down to her neck and Max is sure he looks no better, she pulls back significantly. "Oh, o-kay."

* * *

Note to self: Never allow Max to fight your battles, especially if it involved boys who you used to think were kind of cute only to find out they were actually a total jackass. Okay, scratch that, it wasn't like she had literally asked for his help, they were twins after all. Maybe telepathically, he sensed that she was in trouble, but she hadn't told Max to resort to this.

Whatever it was it didn't matter. Alex didn't go down without a fight, but he did go ' _down_ '. Phoebe shuddered and Max groaned against her weight, complaining about her not being gentle with his banged up side.

"Sorry," She tried to shift him once more, pulling his arm tighter around her shoulders.

 _Max sure was heavy._

His right hand was swollen, probably broken and she feared he might've cracked a rib, he could barely stand up straight as they walked back home at a pace that Max could manage.

She thought she had seen it all, but of course, Max was always full of surprises. She had never seen him so... protective (it's the only word that works) of her before, not in a way that could get him in huge trouble –or end up seriously hurt.

The anger that she saw in him, what was the cause of it? She spared a glance at his hung head, he looked terrible but that fire hadn't completely died out, there were still small little embers lighting up in his irises. And that smug little smirk, it was prideful.

She should have been disappointed in him, violence was never the answer, but yet... she can't ignore what she saw back there – his actions, his decision making, his commanding presence had her stomach twisting in knots, and not in the _'I feel like I'm gonna be sick'_ kind of way.

His chuckle stops her from biting her bottom lip raw, and she helps him on to the family couch because there is no way he can make it down his lair slide in one piece. She leaves the room to grab an ice pack –too bad they only have one– and places it on what injury she thinks is worse.

His grin spreads and he coughs a couple times when the ice hits his chest. Good gravy, she knows this is all her fault.

"Max..."

His good hand silences her. "Don't worry about it." He stares off for a second, dark liquid eyes morphing into something tender. "I know I'm not all touchy-feely, but... just know I'd do it again if I have to."

She'd like to retort that she can fight her own fights, but the corner of her eyes water and she furiously blinks those stubborn tears back. She's not going to cry in front of him, because that would be the least Phoebe-like thing to do.

But there's this wave of relief at his words that travel to her heart and make it flutter with butterflies, and if she hadn't realized it sooner she does now.

He's got her back.

"You're such an idiot." She sniffles, willing herself to stay rooted in her spot and not rush up to him and do something stupid.

"I guess."

His smile makes her cheeks flush because now every little thing he does she notices, and she can't believe this is happening to her of all people but it's something she'll have to deal with.

* * *

Things had been so weird lately, Max hadn't ever been this cold towards her before. Arguing was a must between the two, but he wouldn't even stick around to do that. Maybe he was extra distant after he and had Allison broken up, but that had zero to do with her. Phoebe was polite and she gave him the space to do whatever, whenever he wanted with his annoying little girlfriend.

Well, _ex-girlfriend_ now.

He hadn't taken the news very well when she had told him Link was coming to town and surprised her with two tickets to prom over the phone. It wasn't like she tried to boast about the news, but she really couldn't contain her excitement –or ignore the way he stormed off after she told him.

She just figured it was because he didn't have anyone to go with. If she thought about it long enough she was sure he could find a date within the last minute, though she would never flat out tell him that to his face.

She carefully pulled out another pair of earrings, simple gold hoops from her jewelry box, holding them up to her ear while looking in the mirror, after a few moments of evaluating herself she and scrunched her face and threw them back into the box.

At this point, it was seeing that she didn't have anything that would go with her prom dress. She turned her head, staring at the pink gown draped on her bed, she had approximately two hours before Link would be here and she wasn't even halfway close to being ready.

She sighs to herself and buries her face in her hands, all the stories she's heard her mother tell her when she was young, about Prom being one of the most magical nights in your life were starting to seem like a bunch of fairytale hoopla.

This was nothing but stress, she hadn't seen Link in months and she's wondering if she'll still get the same butterflies when she sees him, or if he'll still think she's as beautiful as he says she is.

"…the diamonds, keep it simple." A gasp escapes her when she swivels in her seat and finds Max leaning casually against her doorframe. There's a mental note to remind herself to _lock_ her room door more frequently.

"What…?" She asks, having missed the first part of his statement.

He's just standing there with unreadable eyes and his arms crossed. His eyebrows raise with calmness and he points to her jewelry box with the ballerina on top. "I said, wear the studs, the ones I got you for Christmas."

 _Oh_.

She had forgotten he had given them to her, especially because she had never worn them, afraid they were fake and would tarnish if she did. But then she contemplates for a moment… they actually might just work with her wardrobe.

She turns her back to shift through the box in search for them, ignoring his footsteps into her room. Embarrassed, she pulls them from out the small –and still intact– blue box before putting them on. She nearly jumps out of her skin when their eyes meet through her vanity mirror.

He's sitting on the side of her bed, his penetrating gaze leaving the skin on her cheeks and ears hot. "Can I help you?" She breaks away from his gaze to make real eye contact, turning around fully, but he just stares back at her, uncaring, unmoving, this irks her.

He shifts his attention to her dress splayed across her bed, pinching the seams with his pointer and thumb. She fights her resolve to slap his hand away. Honestly, what was wrong with him?

"Max, what do you want?" She tries again to figure out what is going on in his head.

"When is ' _Stretchy_ ' getting here?" His question held no indifference, but his tone hinted at… something.

Her eyebrows narrowed as she squinted at him. "Why do you care?" Was he waiting around to give Link one of those talks about what he should and shouldn't do with her while they were at the dance? She scoffed to herself rolling her eyes and clicked open her phone to stare at the time, only an hour and forty-five minutes before he'd be here.

"I don't." He shrugged, and Phoebe was within three seconds from strangling him.

"If that's all then do you mind? I'd like to get ready." She gestured towards her bedroom door with her eyes, hoping he'd get the hint, but he didn't budge. "Max," She stood to her feet, hoping her stance would show him she wasn't in the mood for games. "get out."

* * *

"No." She stares down at him, and he likes the way she regards him, unkempt and frazzled, he relishes the way she stands with a powerful presence. There's the reaction he's been looking for.

But right when Phoebe's fuming is about to get to a point where she'll crack and burst, her face changes –a look of understanding and guilt finds its way to her and she pulls back. "…Look, I'm sorry about what happened between you and Allison, but I had nothing to do with that."

The tables have suddenly turned and now he finds himself angry. He had a gameplan and she was not letting him execute. As if she thought changing the subject would make her look better, because all Phoebe ever cared about was showing off that she was the better person.

"It's not about Allison, it never was." He doesn't know why his voice sinks to a husky whisper but it just does.

"Then why-"

"God, Phoebe, you can be so blind sometimes." He interrupts and stands, because he can't take much more of this.

After Allison had broken up with him because of the incredibly accurate accusations she had made about him being in love with someone else… even guessing who that person could be he knew it was only a matter of time before he did something about it.

With the pressures of what he wants to be and Link showing his preppy face again, it gave him all the ambition he needed. It was wrong to think it, but he didn't care. Phoebe was going to be his.

" _Me_? Blind? I'm not the one prancing around trying to ruin people's nights." In her haste, she unconsciously pushes into his space, but Max notices this and finds himself drawing closer also too far gone to find proper control of the conversation.

"Well, it's only fair –when you go about ruining people's lives!" He gulps thickly, willing his eyes to stay focused on her face but they flicker –for a moment– down the length of her. He inwardly curses.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She runs a hand through her hair. There's general heaviness in her voice that he doesn't mistake for anything else but exhaustion.

"Ha," He responds dryly, and Phoebe looks outwardly insulted and it brings him a small bit of satisfaction. "Of course you don't –you never do, but it's _you_ , it's always been you." He says in one breath.

His heart feels like it's hammering its way out of his chest, but there is no turning back at this point. Phoebe stands there, listening, she gives him her undivided attention, no matter how much it leaves her disjointed.

"You make me go crazy, you're such a dork I can't stand it." Her mouth sets into a thin line.

"Stop." Phoebe puts her hand up to silence him, the wheels turning in her head, knowing this conversation is taking them to a place she's not yet ready to visit.

But Max ignores her and continues on as if she had never interrupted him. "The dumb little girly things –who cares what shirts go with your shoes?"

" _Max_ ," She says, warning him, but damn it he loves the challenge.

Loves that out of all the girls he's dated they don't hold a candle to her defiance. Loves that even though her face holds stern, she's still yielding to him and that unconsciously, the hand that was on his chest pushing him away is now laced in his, the tiny pulse coming alive in his fingertips. It gives him confidence.

"I want to hate you so much, but for every second that I try…" He stops, waiting for her to tell him ' _enough_ ' but she's waiting with muted fascination. "I end up loving you more."

A light of recognition crept across her face but quickly flashed away. His brow furrowed, she appeared deep in thought and at war with herself. "...You need to leave."

And a ton of bricks come crashing down on him. He just poured his small heart and soul out to her and she was telling him to go?!

As if this situation wasn't already sick and twisted enough, still, a small part of him was hoping… he opens his mouth to argue back, but she beats him to it.

"I don't want to talk about this, and of all nights this is the one you decide to –to be so spontaneous?!" Phoebe lets out in a harsh whisper, and he's totally tuned her out.

As much as he wants nothing more than to prove that he's not in this alone. To _show_ her that these feelings aren't one-sided in a way that would have probably ended this game of chase, he's running out of time. He turns his back, not before giving her one last sincere glance over his shoulder, before the hollowness in his heart took control over his mind.

By the end of the night...

He was going to take her powers.


End file.
